Author: Jillybean
AN: So - I get to exposition *does best 'Last time on-' voice*
Last time on ff.net . . . six authors felt the calling, yes, they realized their entire lives were just aiming to this one moment - when they would finally do . . . a collaboration. *dun dun dun!!!*

So they got together, Dupidnavagog, Jillybean, Tomy, Calico, Smitty and Knottaclue and they started out on this epic adventure, full of dashing bats, cute kitties and [hopefully] good writing.

Where this story will lead them - they do not know. Will you read this quest? Or are you afraid - mwahahahahahahahahahaha - *cough cough cough* ahahahahahahahahahahahaha-

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The Return of Bruce's Life

Bruce had a variety of expressions. Terry knew that a lot of people thought he only ever scowled, but there was a huge range of 'scowl' that the old man could muster.
Scowling should really be an olympic event, it would give the old man a chance to shine. Terry thought that would be only fair.

You see, right now, Bruce's scowl was the kind he wore when Terry broke something in the Batcave. It was unbelievably pissed off expression at having the misfortune to have been born on Earth, instead of Perfectron where he truly belonged.

But for once Terry was not the recipient. In fact, Terry was sitting very quietly in one of Bruce's sitting rooms. He didn't move or breathe or even blink just in case Bruce noticed him. He risked a sidelong look at the woman who sat on the sofa opposite Bruce. She was looking into her coffee cup.

The reason for Bruce's scowl was actually this woman. And Terry already hated her. It had all started when she'd turned up-

***
Earlier

"Hannah?" Incredulation wasn't a tone that Terry even recognized when it came out of Bruce's voice box. He dragged a growling Ace closer to the door so that he could get a good look at this woman.
She looked to be around 60, very tall and slim. She had a better figure than many women half her age, not athletic or toned - just 'I-go-to-the-gym-and-drink-fruit-smoothies'. She looked rich. Even dripping wet from the rain, dressed in the shabbiest clothing she looked extremely rich. Her wheat coloured hair was becoming grey at the roots, obviously she hadn't been to the salon in a while.

"Bruce! Oh thank God!" She exclaimed, breaking down into tears and flinging herself at him. Bruce fumbled to drop his stick and catch her in time. Terry put a steadying hand on his mentor's shoulder and stooped to pick the stick up.
"Mom?" A deeper voice asked, and from the car in the drive a boy who was Terry's age struggled up the path. He was carrying a massive leather suitcase that was bursting at the seams. Terry would have gone to help, but he figured he was more helpful if he didn't let Ace savage the kid.

***

As always he was relegated kitchen duty, and he barely made it up the large stairs to the sitting room with the antique silver tray in his hands.
Hannah and her son were in there with Bruce. Her son was watching the rain fall disinterestedly, while Hannah was sitting opposite Bruce on the high-backed sofa. Her legs were curled beneath her and her mascara was slightly smudged, though she'd done her best to clear it.

"Thank you." She said sincerely when he put the tray down on the low table. He smiled at her then looked to the kid.
"I think there's Coke downstairs if you want it." He suggested. The boy rolled his eyes.
"Coffee'll do me fine." He said, but he didn't take any. Bruce shot Terry a look and obediently Terry sat down out of the way, waiting to hear what was to be said.

"This old tea set, eh?" Hannah asked, tracing a hand on the silver tray with affection. Bruce smiled [Stop the press - he actually smiled!] and nodded.
"It's a family heirloom." He told her. Hannah smiled.
"Sons mean so much, don't they? I don't know what I would have done these past few months if not for Craig - oh!" She choked and put a hand over her mouth, emitting a high pitched squeal that heralded more tears.

"Sssh, ssh." Bruce said, leaning forward and patting her shoulder awkwardly. "What's wrong Hannah?"
"Oh I'm sorry Bruce, I shouldn't have come here. It's so dangerous. If I'd had known you had family . . ." She looked to Terry as if her heart had broken. Bruce and Terry stared for a second, then both leapt to correct her opinion.
"Oh no! No! Bruce isn't my dad!"
"Terry's my personal assistant. He helps me with odd jobs and stuff, you know the type." Bruce said to her reassuringly, still patting her shoulder. "But why is it dangerous?"

"Oh I shouldn't have come!" She wailed again. Her son came forward, looking slightly less pissed off and more worried.
"My mother thought you might be able to help us. Because you were Bat-" He cut himself off, realizing he might have said too much. Bruce turned stony eyes on Hannah.
"I thought I told you that that was our little secret?"
"I had to tell him Brucie - you don't understand. Let me tell it from the beginning."

"I'm listening." Bruce told her coolly.

"Ten years ago my sister Devon discovered she wasn't first in line for Daddy's inheritance. Daddy was dying you see and he was leaving me everything. You remember Devon, don't you?"
"Yes." Bruce managed, Terry could see that behind Bruce's eyes he held a great respect for Devon, more than he did for Hannah, who was continuing.

"She was always the clever one, good at sports, she could figure things like business out. It was a shock for both of us when it turn out I was going to inherit the lot! Craig was only ten at the time and it was just after my husband Charlie had died. I thought it was stroke of luck - I wasn't going to have to worry about money anymore. And I would have shared it with her - really!"
"So what happened? Was Devon angry?" Bruce asked. He sounded like he expected her to be.
"Furious! You know she always lost her temper. Like that time Selina Kyle and her got into a cat fight at the gallery, do you remember? That night Devon was your date?"
"Hannah, why is it dangerous?" Bruce pressed, glancing at Terry to see if he'd guessed why the cat fight had started. Terry had, but was working hard to control the grin.

"Right! Of course, sorry. Craig will tell you I'm always reminiscing about the good old days. Well - nothing really happened until last year when our car blew up."
"What?" Terry asked in surprise.
"Our car blew up." Hannah repeated, totally matter of fact. "It was a bomb of course, planted by a hit man Devon had hired. We've been running ever since."

"Why come here though?" Terry asked.
"Because she knows." Bruce had said.

***

And that brought them to the uncomfortable scenario they were at now. Terry stayed very quiet, hoping Bruce wouldn't fly into a rage and rip one of them to shreds.

"You see, one night when we were dating Bruce had to - uh - well he had to go and be Batman." Hannah explained nervously. "It all sort of happened that night, and I found out. I thought maybe Batman could help me." She stood up slowly, looking for all the world like a martyr going to her death.
"But if you won't Bruce. I understand." She whispered, letting a single tear fall from her left eye. Bruce grimaced and stood up too. He hugged her, stroking her hair.
"Of course I'll help you." He whispered. "You'll need a place to stay. Terry, show Craig the spare rooms."

***

"So how did you two meet?" Terry asked as he suited up that night. Bruce glared at him.
"Hey! I was just asking." Terry muttered, pulling the cowl over his head.
"It was at a public function if you must know." Bruce growled. Terry nodded sagely.
"Ahh - the rich daughter. Must have been quite a catch-" He flinched as Bruce rounded on him.
"Tonight you're to pay special attention to the hotels of Gotham. If Devon's in town then I'm betting Selina will pay her a little visit. One thing you should know about cats - they don't like their pride bruised."
And then Bruce grinned. Wickedly.